Routine
by Acteon Carolsfeld
Summary: CO-AUTHOR: lildevchick. The setting has changed, but Megatron and Starscream learn that some things always stay the same.


**Warnings:** Slash; implied sticky and abuse

Authors: lildevchick ( www. fanfiction u/72469/ ); Acteon Carolsfeld

Continuity: Transformers Prime

Disclaimer: Do not own

* * *

How long had it been?

Starscream turned his clone's T-Cog over in his servos, looking it over without really seeing it. His thoughts just drifted off to other things. It wasn't like the T-Cog was currently serving any real purpose, anyway. He didn't have the courage to install it, himself - there were too many things that could go wrong. And he loathed to admit that he'd actually almost gotten used to being permanently stuck in his root mode.

How long had it been?

His internal chronometer kept accurate time, but he almost never checked the damned thing. It wasn't like he had anywhere he had to be or anything, so why bother? Time had become relatively unimportant.

A wave of irritation washed over him and he gently set the T-Cog down. He was prone to becoming irrationally angry in recent times and the last thing he wanted to do was damage something so important. With the T-Cog now safely out of his reach, he left the old medical bay and made his way through the wreckage of the Harbinger. His energon boiled within and a small growl escaped his lips. How could someone so mighty have fallen so far? It wasn't fair. He was Starscream, for Primus's sake! Fastest flier Cybertron had ever seen and one of its most brilliant minds. How could he have become so pathetic?

He decided to go for a walk to cool his processor, lest he lash out and possibly damage something within the Harbinger that still held some value to him. The second the crisp air hit his wings, they stiffened, remembering the feeling of when he used to soar through the sky, unmatched by all around him. Primus, he missed it. Pit, he _needed_ it. Fliers needed to be able to fly to keep sane. No one really understood how it worked, but it had long been recognized that the longer a flight-capable mech was kept grounded, the more their processor would degrade, until eventually they would slip into madness. Starscream could feel it starting to set in. He was so desperate to get back in the air that it had become practically all he could think about. If only he could work up the courage to install that T-Cog...

The Harbinger disappeared behind him, swallowed up by the surrounding rock formations, successfully hiding it from others who would try to locate it. Its location was rather inhospitable to most lifeforms and relatively distant from any human settlements, which was thankful. Those were undoubtedly the only reasons the flesh bags had never found it.

He felt himself relax as he strode through rocky canyons, his stride cautious, but quick. It wouldn't do him any good to take a bad fall and break something. His ankle struts were notoriously weak and he was honestly surprised that they hadn't suffered any sort of serious damage. He paused to rest a moment, scanning his surroundings for nothing in particular, silently admiring the landscape. He despised the humans with fervor, but the scientist in him still marveled at the planet's terrain. It was simply remarkable how different it all was from Cybertron. While his home world was covered primarily in various metals, Earth was covered in dirt and rock and water. As fascinating as it all was, though, it was still filthy. His admiration never lasted long before he noticed how the dirt and dust would settle on his armor, causing the once glorious sheen to look grimy and spoiled. Still, the planet was mostly beautiful, if only in a primitive, backwater kind of way.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of jet engines overhead, distinctly Cybertronian in the way they roared and the incredible heat they emanated. He could feel the warmth from his position, even though he knew the jet was far above him. He winced as the sound drew closer, knowing without looking skyward who had come searching for him. His frame tensed and he readied to bolt. He looked up at the sky, hoping beyond hope that he was wrong this time, even though it was always the same mech who came looking for him. His spark seized in its casing when he saw Megatron descending rapidly towards him. He knew it was futile, but he ran anyway.

"Not again. Primus, not again." He moaned, moving as fast as he could. Had he been able to transform, he had no doubt that he would be able to get away. Megatron was strong and ferocious, but his speed could never match Starscream's own.

Air heaving through his intakes, he moved further away from the Harbinger. It was only sheer dumb luck that Megatron still had no idea he was using the old ship as his base. The warlord always showed up unannounced, finding Starscream only when he wanted something from the slighter mech. Unfortunately, Starscream knew exactly what that something was and he wanted none of it. He silently wished he could avoid these encounters, but a tracking device embedded deep within his circuitry prevented that. It had been installed when he'd first started vying for Megatron's job. It was largely inconvenient and if he could remove the damned thing, he would, but it was so deeply placed within very important circuitry, that in order for anyone to retrieve it without damaging him, he would have to be put into stasis. So he was stuck with it, and Megatron used that to his advantage frequently.

Starscream scrambled over the rocks, being careful not to damage his wings or his peds despite the speed at which he moved. But as he already knew, his fleeing was completely pointless. He felt, more than he heard, Megatron slam to the ground behind him, already transformed into his root mode, his sinister smile no doubt spread on his lips. Starscream barely managed to suppress the shudder that ran up his back strut as he turned to face the warlord.

"M-Megatron. What brings you here?" The question wasn't even necessary, since he already knew the answer. Really, he was just trying to stall the inevitable.

Of course, Megatron didn't answer. He did not waste words on pointless inquiries. He hadn't moved a single step from where he'd landed, shoulders squared and peds parted in a strong stance. His optics simmered as he gave the seeker an inspective once-over, and his lips curled, disgust casting shadows on the scars etched into the derma of his faceplate.

There were new scratches on Starscream.

There was one of his left thigh, and three others littered across his torso. Dust marred the plating that had once held a smooth shine, and the proud arc that the seeker usually wore in his wings was nowhere to be seen, in its place a sagging, stiff perk. Starscream was still beautiful. He could not possibly be anything otherwise. However, he was dirty, ragged, and not what Megatron was willing to touch.

The Decepticon lord had not come so far in his life just to settle for what looked like a Kaon alley whore.

Still without word, the ex-gladiator lifted a clawed hand. Amusement flickered across his features when Starscream clearly startled at the movement, and the following indignation at his own expression of fright was such a part of the routine that Megatron anticipated it before it'd even begun. However, the taller mech made no sound. He did not chuckle. No need to rub in the insult any further. Not when the seeker was already doing so in his processors.

Megatron lifted a clawed hand, and reached into his subspace. He kept his motions slow just to agitate the flighty, nervous thing in front of him, whose optics were darting about so quickly that they were almost dizzying to look at. Starscream hated to be surprised, and nothing bothered him more than having an established pattern disturbed. He was, really, much more predictable than how he perceived himself. However, the Decepticon lord never thought for a klik that this predictability could simply have come from how _long_ they'd already known each other.

With a flick of a wrist, a polishing cloth was flung into Starscream's faceplate. The soft piece of fabric barely made a significant impact, but the seeker let out a small, choked sound regardless, almost stumbling back. The cloth fell, light as it landed in the shorter mech's hands. Megatron watched his ex-lieutenant gape at the thing as though unable to determine its purpose, and waited, peds not having moved an inch since his arrival.

He was lord, and Starscream must rise to meet his standards, even if his intentions were lecherous and despicable.

The seeker stared down at the cloth he held, almost dumbly, as his processor worked through what was happening. It was not a thoughtful gesture, of that he was certain. He did not pretend that he was unaware of his sorry state, so the fact that Megatron had so quickly noticed it came as no surprise. Starscream had once held a great amount of pride in his appearance and had painstakingly kept himself free of damage and filth. But being on his own had stripped him of such needless pride. What did he care how he looked when there was no one around to admire him? Megatron certainly didn't warrant him looking his best.

With a snarl and a sneer, he shredded the polishing cloth with his talons, letting the tattered pieces fall to the ground. He lifted an arm, null ray extended to point at the warlord's chest, his fear temporarily driven from him. Megatron made absolutely no move, simply sizing him up with hungry optics, ignoring the threat completely.

"You're not welcome here. Leave!" Starscream barked.

Of course it wasn't going to be easy.

Starscream never made anything easy, and that was part of the fun. The seeker didn't want the sliver of generosity offered to him? Fine. He would be treated with none. If the ungrateful little glitch wanted to be taken like a whore, covered in filth and forced on the ground, then so be it. Either way, Megatron was going to get what he came for.

The tyrant chuckled then and started to move forward, his strides slow and purposeful. A terrible smile spread on his faceplate the second an audio-shattering screech left the seeker.

"Stay where you are!" Starscream stumbled backwards with each step Megatron took, his courage quickly wavering. His words went ignored and as he propelled himself away from his aggressor, he lost his footing and slipped, back slamming into a rock face. Megatron continued to advance and in his panic, he finally fired his null ray. The shot connected with the tyrant's chest, but didn't leave so much as a scorch mark. His systems were so terribly deprived of energon that there was almost no power left in his weapons. And there he'd just gone and wasted precious fuel on an utterly futile attack.

A servo quickly shot up and latched painfully onto one of his wings. He couldn't stop the scream of pain that escaped his vocalizer and he frantically tried to pull away. He thrashed and sputtered, desperately trying to free himself from the painful hold. His servos clawed at the offending limb and he kicked out with his peds, managing to leave small dents in Megatron's frame. But as he struggled, the grip only tightened and he eventually grew slack, the fight draining from him.

It would seem that his little plaything wasn't as feisty as he usually was. Megatron was almost disappointed, but the charge gathering in his systems dispelled the sentiment without a klik's pause. Heat tingled through his circuitry as he looked down at the seeker, whose glare hasn't eased in the slightest. Without ceremony, the ex-gladiator slapped apart the slender thighs, and trailed a finger down the heaving cockpit before pressing against the thin, cool interface panel.

Starscream was not aroused. Not yet. The hand clenched around the slightly crumbled wing unraveled itself, and its touch turned gentle, teasing. Giving the tip of the trembling wing a small pinch, the fingers ran along its lower edge. Megatron was all for taking whatever the pit he wanted, but things were much more interesting when the seeker fought against the inevitable.

There was nothing more stimulating than seeing his former second battle his own desires only to lose.

More threats, followed by pleas, and then back again to furious shrieking a split cable away from breaking into desperation. The interface panel warmed, and Starscream's intakes began to hitch. His wings fluttered in the exact same manner as Megatron remembered, every time he drove into the seeker in one smooth slide to the hilt. There was the roaring of vents, and the stuttering of cooling fans. Grunts interspersed with whimpers and wails. And that glorious moment, when Starscream finally gave in, and let out a cry that was both piercing yet melodious at the same time.

With helm flung back and neck cables stretched into a graceful arc, the sight of the seeker was exquisite, so much so that, for a flicker of a klik, Megatron thought that he could've kissed him.

The thought did not last long, dispersing the instant the pressure deep inside him reached its peak.

For a moment, all the Decepticon lord could feel was the charge searing through his systems, and the soft, slick valve yielding to his release.

Starscream did not stop shaking long after the transfluid cooled between his thighs.

The seeker's processor spun and he felt himself slide to the ground as the warlord released him. Shame overtook him as he slightly curled in on himself, but he still glared daggers at Megatron despite this. He'd never hated the tyrant more than he did after their little "sessions". He felt used and dirty, though he'd never _ever_ admit that a small part of him wanted the attention, needed it in fact. Though not like that.

At one time he'd entertained the thought of being involved with his former leader, but any hope of him being treated as an equal was quickly thrown aside. Megatron took what he wanted when he wanted it. Starscream was no different. There was no give and take when Megatron fragged him. He just took. Sure, Starscream never failed to have an overload, but that was just because he was incredibly sensitive. It wasn't like Megatron really cared whether he got off or not, so long as he got what _he_ wanted.

"I hate you." He hissed. He lashed out with one of his peds and struck the warlord squarely in the leg, eliciting a growl from the larger mech. The anger in Megatron's optics caused Starscream to flinch and draw back, although there was nowhere for him to go. Megatron had him trapped up against a giant wall of rock.

"Just leave me alone or kill me, you fragger!" He spat, finally uncurling his frame and pushing himself up into a sitting position. He sat with his legs spread open and it was only when he noticed the look in Megatron's optics that he realized his interface panel was still retracted, leaving him exposed. Too exhausted to even be embarrassed, he sneered up at the larger mech just as his panel slid closed.

The Decepticon lord stared at the seeker for a lengthy, silent moment. His vents let out a low grunt, and he stood, frame casting a looming shadow over the smaller mech. Starscream's plating was even more scratched up and dirty than before, dust having turned to mud where moisture clung to his body. His thighs and wings sported the most surface damage, glaring testimony to their coupling, and the Decepticon lord was pleased, or so he thought. It was only to add insult to injury when he took out another polishing cloth, and tossed it at his ex-SIC.

The cloth landed on the ground between Starscream's spread thighs, dark spots forming where it touched the small puddles of fluids. It was hard to tell whether it was lubricant or transfluid, not that such detail mattered. They were drying, a sticky mess, and the polishing cloth had landed right over it.

"Kill you, Starscream?" The ex-gladiator spoke for the first time since his arrival, voice a dark snarl that did not need volume to carry. "Would that be a mercy, I wonder." His optics glowed, but their gaze turned inward. "Compared to living like a rodent, reduced to this sorry heap."

Starscream eyed the polishing cloth on the ground, watching as it started to absorb the mixture of fluids pooled underneath it. Before it could become further soiled, he snatched it up and started to rub it over his plating in slow, even circles, removing the stain that Megatron had left on him. He pressed the cloth harder against the surface of his thighs than need be, as if attempting to remove vorns of abuse that could never be truly scrubbed away. His optics never left the larger mech, his mouth still curled up in a sneer.

"It's your fault I've fallen so far," Starscream spat. "It's always about you. You were never willing to see me as anything but a tool for you to use however you saw fit. I'm _so sorry _that I wanted something better for myself. And while I may be living like a rodent, at least I can do as I please now. I'm not your whipping bot anymore."

Megatron followed Starscream's movements with his optics. This was an argument he'd already heard countless times before. The seeker would blame him for everything that had gone wrong between them, and he would get angry. They'd yell at each other, trade insults, until the Decepticon lord got so fed up that he'd leave his plaything to rot on this mudball a little longer, with nothing more than a fusion cannon blast as farewell.

He would never aim to hurt, only to singe. It was to make a point, after all, not to kill.

"I see what you make yourself to be." He finally replied, breaking the flow of their usual banter. "Is _this_ truly better for you, Starscream? Have you finally found the glory you so craved since the beginning in this pitiful form of freedom you've subjugated yourself to, rendering you incapable of even feeding yourself?"

Starscream chose that moment to shakily climb to his peds. He used the rock face as support, his legs shaking beneath him, threatening to give out and drop him back to the ground.

"Believe what you want. But despite current appearances, I'm happy. I'm glad I left. How many times did you beat me for some imagined slight against you? How many times did you take me, never once considering that it might not be something that _I_ wanted. I'm not a Decepticon anymore. I'm not yours to do with as you please. Just..." His vocalizer wavered almost imperceptibly as dozens of emotions threatened to spill forth from him. But he focused on his rage and his hatred and gathered them up quickly, pushing everything else aside.

He lunged forward without warning, swiping at the warlord with his claws. Unfortunately, Megatron was always ready for when he might attack and a servo wrapped around one of his wrists before pulling him sharply forward. He gave a small cry as he was thrown back into the wall of rock, Megatron still tightly holding onto his arm and holding him up off the ground as if he were nothing more than a human child's ragdoll.

Starscream screeched loudly and flailed against the tyrant, not caring that he was barely causing him any damage.

"I hate you!"

Megatron looked to his servo, the one clutched around Starscream's wrist, ignoring the onslaught the flier was trying to deliver upon him.

It was an accident.

It really was.

A reflex response left over from his days as a gladiator, one that had saved him many times on the battlefield, and yet…had never spared him a single misunderstanding between him and the seeker clutched in his hands.

Megatron was angry, but for a moment, he hesitated. For that split of a second, he could not tell if this rage, this eruption of wrath, was a reflex as well, just like the violence. However, before he could dwell and think it over, he growled, and snuffed it down. Being unsure was a weakness, and he could afford none of that, especially not in front of the only one who had ever come close to extinguishing the spark so many had failed to take.

"Starscream." He gritted out the name, jaw joints bitten tight and optics flaring from the shadows seeping down his face. "You—…!" His fingers clenched tighter, and the thin wrist he held almost buckled. "Are not…_happy_…!" He spat out the word as though vermin, and the burn of his spark was almost too much, almost too passionate for one as drenched in callous cruelty as he to experience.

"What you want…You don't _know_ what you want!" He glared into the seeker's optics, so riled and infuriated that the heat radiating from his plating was enough to blister. "Imagined slight? You have always been the one to mock me as I bleed from a wound on my back from _your_ null rays, so tell me, seeker: what am I to do but beat you down before I _kill _you?!"

Starscream withered under the gaze of his former leader, slight shakes running through his frame. But his docility was only temporary. It always was. Megatron's rage only further fueled his own and he snapped, optics turning as hard and sharp as metal.

"I know exactly what I want: you lying offlined at my peds!" His optics flared darker in that moment.

"You started this! You _always_ start it." He shouted, trying to yank free from the Decepticon lord's hold. All he succeeded in doing was damaging his wrist, but he didn't care. Pain flared through his wrist joint and he continued to struggle, using it to further drive him in his anger. "You started beating me long before I ever tried offlining you, and you wonder why I try to kill you _now_?

Megatron stared down at the thrashing seeker, and fury, surging through his body, turned his optics blood red. With a roar, he slammed the slight-framed mech against the rock face, and forced him still, chassis pressed against chassis. He could feel Starscream's anger from each heaving rise-and-fall of his fragile canopy, their breaths mingling in the heated air around them. From this close, the Decepticon lord could see every quiver behind his ex-second's scowl, even those hidden behind a fortress of contempt.

Here they were again, at each other's throats.

Always.

Every single time.

It was _sickening_...

…how helpless they were, caught in this over-rehearsed mess.

Megatron stared down at the seeker, and felt his rage, little by little, evaporating from his plating. His fingers loosened around the slim wrists, bit by bit, until the smaller mech was kept up entirely by how close they were against each other. For a long moment, all the ex-gladiator did was look. His snarl lost its menace. His glare lost its edge. The penetrating glow of his optics ebbed away, and a sigh, quiet, but deep, cycled through his intake system.

"I tire of this, Starscream." He said, voice a mere whisper to the low rumbling of his engines.

"I tire of you."

Beyond all his comprehension, Starscream felt something within him break. Those four little words fell upon him like a hammer and for the life of him, he could not understand why they _hurt_. It was a pain he'd never known before and to him, it hurt more than a blast from Megatron's fusion cannon ever had. So caught off guard by such a foreign pain was he, that it filtered into his features, momentarily morphing his faceplate into something much softer. But he quickly remembered himself and who he was with and buried the hurt at the bottom of his spark where it would fester like a cancer but could not hurt him at that moment. He glowered at his former leader and cycled a burst of air through his intakes, recovering from his moment of weakness.

"Funny. Because I grew tired of you vorns ago. So nice of you to catch up."

Starscream's reply lingered in the air.

It weighed down the silence, until it was almost a tangible pressure around them.

Megatron studied his former lieutenant, expression guarded and optics dimmed. He took a step back, then another, peds heavy against the dusty terrain. He pulled away from the seeker, only watching as the smaller mech slid down to the ground. There was much he wanted to say, but the only indication of such was a small twitch of his fingers, wanting to brush against a trembling wing.

"Very well." He said, and, without another word, turned his back to the one sworn to tear out his spark.

…The one whom he had once proudly wanted to stand beside him.

Something had to give. They were stuck in a never-ending cycle and something had to be done to break it.

Starscream did not want to be the one who gave in. He'd already given up so much as it was. What did it matter that Megatron was leader of the Decepticons? He shouldn't be allowed to win all the time just because of that and Starscream shouldn't have to constantly suffer. It just wasn't fair.

He contemplated just walking away, though he wondered if Megatron would actually allow him to do so. Not once had he ever been allowed to be the first to leave from their encounters and the few times he'd tried, Megatron always resorted to some form of bodily harm to attempt to teach the seeker his place. The tyrant would always end up flying off long before Starscream would return to the Harbinger. It was just part of the routine. Attacking the larger mech was not something he would try again, not with how weak he was becoming. He was stubborn, not stupid.

Starscream climbed to his peds, legs threatening to give out on him. Megatron had been fairly rough and he was starting to get dangerously low on energon. His optics had dimmed and his systems slowed to conserve what little energy he had left. He leaned back against the rock face, using it to support himself and looked down at the ground.

"Why?" He hissed. "Why can't you ever let me win?"

Megatron paused. He stood still for a moment, then looked over his shoulder, optics sweeping over the seeker's hunched form. Starscream's stance was weak. His features lacked the vigor that usually accompanied his passionate expressions. He had clearly not properly refueled for a long time, so much so that even the cycling of his vents sounded labored.

Winning.

_This_ had never been about winning.

It was about acceptance. However, neither of them could reach that resolve, not yet, if ever.

Stifling a sigh, the Decepticon lord turned around, and looked out to the stretch of rocky land in front of him. As always, the mudball was an eyesore, lacking in everything the ex-gladiator had found beautiful on his home planet, on Cybertron. Even the sparkling spires of Iacon, covered in glittering decadence, had been an attractive ideal once. They had been where every mech aspired to be: a place where one could prove that yes, I do worth a damn.

Megatron scowled. The thought was foul, and he would've spat it out if he could. It was too soft, too sentimental, and thus it was quickly discarded, erased from his processors. His fingers dug into his palms. He did not realize he had clenched them. Shaking them loose took some effort, but he managed, long after disgust had begun to fester within him from the repulsive view.

Lifting a hand, he reached into subspace. An energon cube was taken out, and he stared at it for a moment, eyebrows furrowing, before taking out another. Balancing them on his palm was a little tricky, but it was nothing he couldn't accomplish. Cubes stacked on top of one another, he held his hand out to the side, and strained his shoulder to offer them to the seeker without turning around.

He suddenly froze.

What in the pits was he doing?

The thought flashed across his processors, and the split second of hesitance was all it took for the cubes to topple over.

_They tumbled to the ground, clinking as they bounced into each other, their contents spilling as their __lids were knocked askew._

Megatron tensed. He stared down at them, hand still raised as though surprised that its cargo had so easily fallen.

His fingers twitched.

He'd almost crouched down to pick them up.

However, he only curled his hand into a fist, and allowed it to drop back down to his side.

Bitter.

The gesture was bitter.

Starscream could only stare at the mess of energon soaking into the earth. He was desperate enough for fuel that he actually entertained the notion of just getting down on the ground and lapping up the muddy puddle. But he still had too much pride for that, so the thought was banished almost immediately.

His optics turned upward to look at the warlord. Megatron had always been cruel, so such an action should not have surprised Starscream in the least. But it did.

That foreign pain he'd felt earlier blossomed anew within his spark and it took all his self control not to raise a servo to clutch at his cockpit.

He could barely stand as it was, but he somehow found enough energy to bolt, moving as quickly over the rocky terrain as he could manage in his dangerously weakened state. He expected at any moment to be hit by a blast from Megatron's fusion cannon, but the blast never came. He honestly wouldn't have minded if it did.

He knew the warlord might follow him, so he didn't dare return to the Harbinger, no matter how safe he felt there. The only comfort he got was knowing that having been stuck in his root mode, he knew the surrounding area far better than Megatron did. If he could find a cave or something to hide in, then maybe everything would be okay.

He was certain the larger mech would come after him. Such cruel acts were usually followed by something worse, just to make him feel even more inadequate and small. He couldn't count on both his servos the number of times Megatron had beaten him or worse, fragged him, after doing or saying something horribly cruel. His words always stabbed deeper than any blade ever could and every bitter overload pulled from the seeker only made him hate the Decepticon lord more. Where Starscream had once felt admiration and desire, now there was only fear and loathing. But the worst part, was that most of his loathing was directed inwardly at himself.

Starscream ran blindly, not entirely certain where he was going. It was only when his legs finally gave out beneath him and he collapsed in a heap on the ground, intakes heaving relentlessly, that he finally stopped.

~/~

Megatron only watched as his ex-SIC scurried away. The seeker's peds pattered against the hard ground, marked by the distinct noise of clicking, thin heels. The sound grew fainter and fainter, fading until they were nothing but pale echoes inside a forest of rock. For a long moment, the Decepticon lord only stood there, looking down at the puddles of energon while silence hung around him, thick like a wall of impenetrable fog.

Bitterness.

He was left with nothing but bitterness sitting at the bottom of his tank, every single time after an encounter with Starscream.

That seeker…

It was always that damned seeker.

Always making a mess of things then darting away as though running could solve every problem he'd ever found himself in.

Megatron entertained the idea of going after the deserter of his army. Starscream had escaped on foot, which was bizarre, but it did make chasing him a lot easier compared to otherwise. However, he did not follow that impulse. Like he'd said, he was tired of this. There was a war to win, and he had already wasted enough time on this wayward seeker as it was.

Even with that thought in mind, though, he still stayed at that spot for several breems, overlooking barren land.

The energon continued to spread, inching outward.

A stain growing ever larger as time passed by.

~/~

Starscream slowly made his way back to the spot where Megatron had initially found him. He remained cowering behind a large rock, too scared to go out in the open, lest the warlord was still somewhere nearby.

He was desperate for fuel. If he continued on as he was for much longer, he had no doubts that he would go offline. He waited several kliks before coming out from behind the rock. His optics darted about as he spun around, trying to see if Megatron was still around. When he was convinced he was alone, he moved over to the pile of discarded energon cubes.

He got down on his knees and surveyed the ground, a frown spreading on his faceplate. The energon that had been spilled had mixed with the dirt and became a disgusting brown paste. There was no way he would be able to swallow something so horrid without his systems forcefully discharging it the second it made it past his lips.

With a groan, he stood up and turned to leave. He'd only moved a few steps when his ped brushed up against something. His intakes hitched and he stooped down to pick up his discovery. He couldn't comprehend that they had been left there for him. But there they were...

…two cubes of energon, filled to the brim.

* * *

**Notes:** Oh this was quite a lot of fun to do. It was my first time co-writing with another author, and it was such an exciting experience! Huge thanks to _lildevchick_ for proposing the idea and coming up with this prompt. Writing this with you was a blast! :DD

So, what do you guys think? I'd love to hear some feedback if you have the time to leave a few lines. Since this is a first (for both of us actually, if I remember correctly), a review would be all kinds of wonderful.

Thank you very much!


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